


Unforgettable

by Duchesse



Category: Hellsing
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Paranormal Romance, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, Self-Insert, Suggestive Themes, Supernatural romance, gender-neutral, vampire romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 23:11:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12286197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchesse/pseuds/Duchesse
Summary: You awake to Alucard appearing in your bedroom in the dead of night. Despite the pang of familiarity and fondness, you don’t recall him. He’s determined to make you remember.[Alucard/Reader].





	Unforgettable

**Author's Note:**

> yo! 
> 
> this was a request asking for alucard and an amnesiac mc. hopefully i did the prompt justice. if you enjoyed this, please support ya gal! kudo, comment, bookmark--whatever suits your fancy!

He came again at night.

For the third time, you shriveled against the headboard behind you and buried your face to the nose in blankets as he materialized through the wall, hair and intricate cravat fluttering with his long strides. This time was different, however; he wore nothing to obscure his features from you as he had done previously.

The sight of his long face and sharp eyes struck you with a bizarre sense of familiarity, of fondness. Even as he found a seat in the lavish leather armchair at your bedside, fingers twined together atop a  crook knee, and the way he seemed relaxed yet poised altogether felt like a regular occurrence.

You weren’t sure how long you had remained furled against the headboard, rear nearing the edge of bed with your blankets still raised defensively. The longer he sat there, totally unperturbed by your skepticism, silent and observing, the less patience you had.

“So, you’re a vampire?” you blurted at last, shoulders rolling forward as a wave of relief flooded over you. “Prove it. Show me your teeth.”

“I materialized through a wall,” he rebuffed flatly.

“That’s shit I expect from a ghost, not a vampire.” You rejoined. “Teeth or you’re full of it.”

Alucard breathed sharply from his nose, giving a lopsided smirk and you the sight of one of his fangs that glinted almost menacingly against the pale moonlight filtering into your bedroom. The armchair groaned as he leaned forward slightly, hands now resting tightly across his knee. “Would you like me to come closer so you can see better?”

“Aaaah, nope! Nah, I’m just dandy with this here,” you exclaimed, jutting your arm against the blankets to gesture to the sizable gap between you both. “You’re fine right there. I’m good over here.”

“Tsk,” he tutted, leaning back against the chair. “You do realize that we’re usually  _much closer_ than this. In fact, I’m feeling rather lonely being so far away…”

You dipped a leg off the end of the bed, the cold floor against your sole a welcomed feeling as you leaned your weight onto it. Seras had warned you he was like this, but not to let him get under your skin since she doubted he would do anything. She had said this with an unconvincing, distant look on her face.

“Too bad. Deal with it,” came your audacious reply, though the intensity of your gaze wavered against his own. “Why are you even in here? I can’t even sleep.”

“That’s a side-effect from your medication,  _not me_.” Alucard said firmly. “The doctor did say that his concoction of garbage would make you restless, have you forgotten already?”

Doctor? What doctor?

Oh, right. Doctor Pavlov had been the one to treat your injuries and medicate the pain. You could recall the faint scent of gunpowder, the acrid taste that filled every crevice of your mouth, and your gloved hand stained with mud and blood as you desperately clawed the air towards a figure in red.

Startled by your own realization, the blankets pooled at your waist as your hands shot up towards your head, groping the thick bandages that wound it. They felt damp.

“Now you understand. Truly, even as the mess you are, you’re still as intoxicating as ever.” Alucard offered a wry smile in response to your pointed stare, fingers coming undone as he rose from the chair to place a single knee on the bed.

You immediately leaned away. “I can change these myself.”

“Remember more.” Alucard said lowly, his weight pushing forward on the mattress made it divot and creak slightly. “Stop trying to suppress it. Remember.”

What was he talking about? What else was there to remember? You had been hurt badly, there was blood everywhere, there was the figure in red and then bright lights. Doctor Pavlov’s wise face appeared vibrantly in your mind; hair and beard an elegant blend of salt and pepper, surprisingly stylish glasses for an old man.

His face hovered above you, the concern he feigned in his voice did not reach his eyes. At his side was the vampire girl Seras and then an older woman, beautiful and poised despite the weathered lines in her face.

Her name was Integra, your benefactor, as you recalled.

Your eyes had faltered from them when you caught motion from your peripheral. Restraints bound your head in place, even the simple notion of sating curiosity rattled your core with pain. Yet, you still managed to catch sight of the red from the battlefield and Alucard’s face as he passed through the wall.

The EKG fluctuated wildly as did your respiration, the next thing you could remember was a room flooded with nurses promptly before everything faded to black.

“Yes, yes, that’s it,” Alucard’s voice came you in a whisper, warm air cradled your ear. “That wasn’t all that happened. You got more than a few screws in your head that night.”

He was right. The blood that soiled your gloves hadn’t been from your head, it had originated from elsewhere. Your vision had started to blur and darken at that point, a wave of panic burst from your chest knowing that the red seeping through your uniform belonged to you.

Your body felt cold, your fingers stiffened as stung as though pricked by hundreds of needles at once. Making quick work from a torn section of your uniform, you fought through the black haze in your head as you wound the fabric at your thigh, choking a scream as you tightened the tourniquet with all you could muster.

“It’s a spectacular piece of work, even I find myself envious that your carelessness was rewarded so well.” You trailed your fingertips along the cold metal that made the shape of your leg. Soon enough, a larger hand rested atop of yours, fingers ensnaring yours as they were lifted off your leg and you felt lips press against your wrist.

You looked on distantly, eyes flitting across the room in your struggle to make sense of the situation. Alucard shifted closer to you still, lithe fingers busying with your hair as his lips trailed from your shoulder to the crook of your neck.

At that moment you returned to reality, jarring at the delicate touch to your neck and nearly jumping out of your skin when you turned your head to have his face inches from your own.

“Oookay, whoa there. No, no, no!” you tittered, flinging yourself away from him towards the middle of the bed. “I know what you’re after and you can’t have it!”

Before you could get to the other end of the bed, your back sank into the mattress as Alucard caged you below him, either hand anchored by the sides of your head. His black hair curtained and framed his face, eyes pinning you as they glowed fiercely.

“I’m sick of playing this fucking game. It’s been  _months._  Pavlov didn’t say your memory would take this long to recover.” Alucard said impatiently, voice tinged in frustration.

“Wait, months? Haven’t I only seen you a few times? Like, three or four?” you asked incredulously, worry nipping in the back of your head that, perhaps, this situation wasn’t so cut-and-dry as you would have liked it to be. “I saw you in the hospital twice, and then… now.”

Alucard laughed quietly, arms lowering around you as he pressed some his weight against you. His fingers threaded into your hair, circling several tender areas on the scalp that made you flinch against his touch. “Try dozens. No, that’s not enough. This months we’re considering.”

“Then, why do I hardly remember you?”

“Well, that’s the real question here, isn’t it?” Alucard trailed the back of his hand along your jaw. “Perhaps it calls for a visit to our old friend, Doctor Pavlov, hm? Have him tell me the shit he’s been sticking in your veins. I’ve been waiting all this time for him to stop.”

You almost didn’t want to know what he meant by that, yet you ventured fearlessly. “Stop?”

Alucard smiled wide and tautly, eyes flitting briefly from your face to your neck. “Now that I think about it, maybe he’s done it on purpose. Yes, it makes sense. He’s been injecting that garbage to make your blood taste just as bad.”

“Wh-what?! Wait, you don’t… want… my blood?” you pried timidly, withering under the searing stare he fixed you with.

“’Don’t want your blood’? Nonsense,” he glided his gloved fingertips down the side of your neck and pressed them against your skin, feeling for the throbbing vein. “ _I crave it._  But, the good doctor reminds me time and time again that his trash taints the most beautiful things.”

“Er… thanks?” You couldn’t be sure if he was talking about you or your blood. “If that’s not what you wanted, then what is?”

For the second time, a broad smile split across his mouth though this time there was something far more suggestive about it. His eyes crinkled and traveled downward. “Tell me, what do you think I am to you?”

You shifted beneath him, suddenly missing the false protection your blankets offered you. Yet, despite your discomfort, he posed a question that roused your interest. Both Seras and Integra had offered forewarning of certain behaviors of his and seemed unconcerned of your distress thereafter.

Surely this meant something? Your existing memories had to mean something.

“You were there on the battlefield. I saw you. The figure in red, right?”

“My, not so dense after all, are you?” Alucard stifled a bark of laughter at your flat stare. “Yes. I was the one who carried you, gushing and oozing blood, writhing and screaming, all the way to the hospital.”

You deadpanned. “Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure,” he purred.

Truthfully, you already knew the answer. Even with your memory missing, you were not out of tune with your emotions. With him in any proximity of you, your stomach coiled excitably and you were expectant of him. In other words, it was fucking ridiculous.

At last, you declared, “I don’t believe it. It doesn’t make sense.”

“But doesn’t it make sense? Humans thrive on stories like ours.” He retorted, leaning in where his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “There are things I crave more than your blood.”

As he reeled back, you pursed your lips and frowned, ignoring the heat creeping from your ears down to your neck. Before you could have looked away, he gripped your chin with a hand, cementing it straight ahead as his thumb traced below your lower lip.

“Will you indulge me this beautiful night?”

You offered your answer as you closed your eyes, grasping the front of his vest when his lips pressed against yours hard and fervently, sealing your fate for that night.

 


End file.
